Chasseur à Cheval (Napoleonic Horseman Book 1)

by Griff Hosker

  We had some food in a tavern and asked about businesses. We were directed to a young lawyer, Francois Latour. He was young and earnest. His office was Spartan and small; business could not be that good. Even as we were talking to him I wondered how he had avoided the draft. We explained what we were looking for. He nodded sympathetically. “I think I can find one or two but not in Breteuil. If you wish to buy there then you have to go through Madame Tusson’s representative, Gregor Savinsky.” He lowered his voice, “He came here last year from Russia and he has become a very powerful lawyer and businessman. He handles all the business affairs of Madame Tusson. I warn you to steer clear of him. He has an office on the next street. Avoid it. He is a dangerous man. I do not do this to gain business for myself but I can see that you are soldiers of France and I would not wish harm to come to you.”

  Jean smiled and nodded, “We can look after ourselves.”

  “That may be true on the battlefield but this Savinsky has surrounded himself with a veritable army of thugs; all of them foreign. I suspect they are deserters. There are Austrians, Hanoverians even some British. Be careful.”

  “We will. Now we will return again tomorrow. If you could have some properties for us to examine we would be grateful.”

  “It will be my pleasure. I will try to get one as close to Breteuil as possible but I am not hopeful. The spider spins her web wide these days.”

  As we rode back we spoke of the problems. “This will not be as easy as we thought eh Jean?”

  “I, for one, never thought that it would be easy. What is so difficult now?”

  “The thugs this Russian has hired.”

  “They are deserters. Remember Robbie, they are the soldiers who fled before us. We are the ones they should fear.”

  “But there are only two of us.”

  “They do not know we are coming and who knows the land around here better than us? No one. We use the skills your father drilled into us and those we have learned as soldiers.” He gave me an appraising look, “You have come on since we joined the army. I would gladly have you watching my back and I know that all the others in the regiment feel the same. Even Old Albert trusts your skill and judgement. It is time you did. You have inherited much from your father; his skills with weapons and his strength but from your mother you have gained other traits equally valuable. You are clever, inventive and loyal. Believe me the thugs would fear us if they knew that we were coming.”

  Julian and the inn keeper had got on like a house on fire and were firm friends. We were the only guests and Jacques, the inn keeper, joined us after we had eaten. He had been wounded in the campaign in the Low Countries but he had only lost an eye. He now had a glass one. He was a joker and when he went for some more ale he took out the eye and left it on the table, when I asked why he joked, “To keep an eye on you.”

  Old soldiers have a way of mocking themselves which would put many politicians to shame. They know that life is too short to take yourself as seriously as they appeared to. When he returned with the wine he said, “I know who you two are. They have been looking for you for the past few years. There were posters offering a reward.” He saw the looks on our faces. “Do not worry. Your secret is safe with me. That Madame Tusson is evil and those she wishes dead usually end up that way.”

  “Why does she want me dead?”

  “Because you are the legitimate heir to the estate. The only other one who still lives from that time is your friend here, Jean, should the king return then you would gain the estate.”

  Jean nodded, “That makes sense. In fact if you went to the courts it could well be that they might look sympathetically upon you. You were illegitimate and oppressed. You would have a good case. It seems to me that this spider and her web are fragile. She controls Breteuil but so long as you are alive then you would be the wind to destroy her world.”

  “Julian tells me that you know this General Bonaparte. What is he like? We heard he brought order to Paris last year and he is undefeated in Italy.”

  Jean looked at me, “Go on Robbie, you are the one with the words. What is he like?”

  “He appears to be a small man but when you speak with him it is you who feels small. He is tireless. We travelled from the south of France to Paris and I never saw him sleep. He is totally ruthless and yet the soldiers love him.” I looked at Julian. “You fought under him is it not true?”

  “It is. Before he came to the army we thought we would be defeated each time we fought. He gave us belief and we all fought harder for him. He was always visible on the battlefield and you knew where he was.”

  “That is true. But he is ambitious. He is now in Paris and if I were the other members of the Directory I would be afraid. He will not be content with life as a mere general. He wants the world.”

  We returned the next day to Amiens and our young lawyer had found a tavern in Marseille-en-Beauvaisis. It was just five miles from Breteuil. We gave the money to the lawyer and left the negotiation in his hands. He did issue a warning however, “The Russian wanted this tavern too. Fortunately I knew the owner. He was a friend of my father’s and he was happier to sell to us rather than the Black Widow.”

  “The Black Widow?”

  He smiled. “It is the nickname of Madame Tusson. Her mates have a habit of dying quite soon after they meet her. There is a tropical spider which has the same habit. It seems appropriate. If you return tomorrow I should have the deeds and the bill of sale.”

  Jean shook his hand. “Thank you and be careful. We would not like you to fall foul of this Russian.”

  “That is thoughtful but I can look after myself.”

  “It is time to find our new enemy Robbie. We will go to the centre of Amiens and approach this Savinsky from the other direction. Just in case they are watching our young friend. The walk enabled us to familiarise ourselves with the geography of the town. As we approached the office of the Russian we could see the man stationed on the street corner to watch for strangers. It identified the office quite clearly. On the opposite side was a boulangerie. We crossed the street and went in. While I bought two baguettes Jean checked out the office.

  As I paid Jean said, “Is there a lawyer close by? We are keen to buy some property in the area.”

  The baker said, “There is one across the street but I would avoid him. It is far better to go around the corner to young Francois Latour. He is young but honest.”

  “Meaning the one across the street is not.”

  “I did not say that and I would be grateful if you did not give voice to your suspicions on the street. I have to live here and those three men you can see across the street all work for him.”

  We both looked at the four men and stored their faces in our memory. We would know them again. “Thank you sir and we will be as silent as the grave.”

  We left and walked down the street, assiduously avoiding all glances across the road. We could feel the eyes of the sentries staring after us. As we rode back to Frossy we detoured to pass close by Breteuil. We could pass the front gates which led to the main house. It was another way to get to Frossy and we would appear to be normal travellers. As we passed the gates we saw another two guards. They had the look of violent men and they stared malevolently at us as we passed. We tipped our hats as we rode by and were rewarded with a scowl. When we were out of earshot Jean said, “That is at least six men. We can assume there will be replacements for the evening and others inside. I would estimate there are twelve men for us to deal with.”

  “And how will we deal with them?”

  In answer Jean posed me a problem, “Suppose we were hunting a boar. How would we achieve that?”

  “The first thing would be to isolate it from the rest and lure it into a trap.”

  “And that is how we will deal with these deserters. We will tackle them one by one.”

  “Won’t that make them suspicious?”

  “Yes and worried; all of which will give us the advantage. We need them to close up around th
eir leader. We want them to think it is the Russian we target and not the Black Widow. Once they are looking close to him it will enable us to get close to her.”

  When we returned with Julian to the lawyer’s office all the paper work was done. Francois gave us the money he had not used. “You did take your fee?”

  Francois smiled, “Of course. I am a business albeit an honest one. Did you visit the baker on the next street yesterday?”

  “Yes why? Some of Savinsky’s thugs paid him a visit and asked what you had wanted. They visited me later on and asked had I two new clients who were new to Amiens. Be careful. He knows of you now and he will be wondering about you. I would avoid that street in future.”

  I detected some criticism in his voice. Jean did too. “I am sorry for the attention but we had to find out who his men were. Now we know we can begin to plan.” He leaned forwards and lowered his voice. “If it is any consolation I believe that his power will begin to wane soon.”

  “Listen my friends I should warn you. The Russian and his woman are suspected of many crimes. People have disappeared. Bodies have appeared. Young girls and boys are taken to his house and… well it beggars belief. I implore you to be careful and do not underestimate either of them. The world would be better off without them but they have the power around here and they cannot be hurt.”

  I shook him by the hand, “Thank you for your concern but we know what we are doing. Trust us.”

  We hired a cart and left for the inn. On the way we used the excess money to stock up with food and wines. We also managed to buy a wheel chair. Julian had used crutches but the wheelchair would be more comfortable. Julian had learned from his new friend at Frossy where he could acquire a regular source of good ale. The land to the north, the land of the Belgians was noted for its beer and now that it was the Batavian Republic they were keen to do business with the French Republic.

  The tavern had a good position on the main street. The man next door was expecting us and he had been paid by the owner to keep an eye on the place. He was pleased that there were new owners. “We have had some very suspicious looking men eyeing up the place. They looked like deserters to me.”

  So the Russian’s men had been scouting too. It was a warning to us to keep our eyes open. The tavern was dusty but it was furnished. That had been a worry. We spent the morning dusting and cleaning. Soldiers learn to keep their barracks spotless and we were three old soldiers. The wheel chair enabled Julian to move around much easier. We found a living room at the back next to the kitchen and Jean and I brought the old bed down from upstairs. Julian was in a positive mood, “When I hire some workers I can use the rooms upstairs for customers.”

  The stables at the back were in good condition and we could see that we had managed to get a bargain. “What about a name?”

  The lopsided sign hanging forlornly from the front wall was faded but it showed that it had been called ‘The Grapes’. “Will it be ‘The Grapes’ again?”

  “No I thought ‘The Chasseur’. It sounds classier and is a thank you to you two.”

  That pleased us. We stayed the night with Julian. “We are about our business now. We will not return here until our business is done. We would not embroil you any further.”

  “But I am involved.”

  “Yes we know but you cannot evade danger as we can. Have you any help coming?”

  “Aye, the man next door knows of a couple of girls in the village who are looking for work. I will be fine.” He grinned, “I lost only my legs, not my remarkably good looks!”

  As we left I was confident that Guiscard’s son would survive. Many others would have allowed the loss of legs to deprive them of a normal life. To Julian they were an inconvenience and would not prevent him from living life to the full.

  Chapter 16

  We returned the cart to Amiens and then began to set our plan in motion. We changed our appearance by wearing working clothes rather than the fine ones we had hitherto. Francois let us leave our good clothes and effects in his office. Jean had worked out that the deserters and guards would drink and eat close to the office and they would choose somewhere they felt comfortable. We found the bar almost immediately. We went in and bought the cheapest wine they had. It was rough and it was potent. We sat in the corner and Jean smoked a pipe. We waited. Eventually two of the guards came in and ordered food and ale. They sat close by as the bar had filled up. As they began to speak I suddenly realised that they were English. It should have been obvious as their accents, when they spoke French, were abysmal.

  After their food arrived and Jean and I spoke French they relaxed and began to open up to each other. “I thought we would have made more money than we have Jack.”

  “Listen mate, this is early days yet. We have only been here for six months. We eat, we drink, and we get to kick lumps out of the Russian’s enemies so relax. It’s better than being back with the Old Duke of York. There are no sergeant majors flogging us and we don’t sleep in a field.”

  “Yeah I know but we haven’t seen much coin have we?”

  “True but we can always go into business for ourselves. The frog, Andre, he spotted those two toffs in the street yesterday; he reckoned they looked soft as. Now there must be a load like that. When we are off duty tonight we will wander the streets. We find a couple of likely victims and rob them blind. Old Andre might like to come along too. He knows the town.”

  The other one brightened up at the prospect of becoming robbers. “Aye all right.”

  After they had gone I told Jean what they had said. He had picked up some of the words but their accent was not one which facilitated understanding by someone who was not fluent. We discussed what we ought to do. “If we could get rid of three of his men it would make things easier for us. These are his town guards, obviously.”

  “But, Jean, there are three of them.”

  “I know. I had hoped it would just be two but we need to take our opportunities when they arise. We only have two or three more weeks and that includes the journey back to Golfe Juan.”

  “I’m game. How do we play this?”

  “We use you as bait. If they think you are alone it will make them more confident. Hopefully it will make them over confident. We just need to find a nice little place for an ambush.”

  We found a quiet street off the Rue Conde and close to the cathedral. At night time the cathedral grounds were empty. The beggars and the worshippers had left. It was also the route to the bridge across the river. Jean could wait in the shadow of the cathedral. It was where I would ambush someone if I was a criminal.

  I returned to Francois’ office alone and changed into my fine clothes. He was curious but he said nothing save, “Be careful. These are dangerous men.”

  “Do not worry Francois; we have met men far more dangerous than these men. If they were worth worrying about they would have stayed in the army. They deserted and that shows that they are afraid. Jean and I are not.”

  He nodded, “Good luck, my friend.”

  Jean was waiting close to a better quality inn just along from the Russian’s office. I had acquired a cane with a metal head. It was the sort of thing a young man about town would have and it helped my disguise. I walked slowly along the street and marched deliberately towards the clutch of men on the street. I knew that they were guards but the character I was playing did not and so, I passed them I tipped my hat and said, “Good afternoon.” They touched their caps but I saw two of the men from the tavern and saw the voracious grins which appeared. They were nibbling the bait. I continued to walk down the road, quite slowly. I paused at the end of the street as though trying to get my bearings but, in reality, checking to see if I was being followed. It was the one called Jack. When he had spoken in the bar I got the impression that he was the leader.

  I played the part of a young man about time who was bored and rich. As we entered a slightly more prosperous part of town I went into a couple of expensive shops. I did not buy but I made a point of holding m
y purse in my hand. I then walked back towards the tavern we had chosen. It was a street away from the Russian’s office. Jean was lounging by the street corner smoking a pipe. I ignored him. I studied the menu; it was expensive. Then I entered. I took a table by the window so that Jean could see me and I could see Jack. I ordered a bottle of wine and then studied the menu. I saw my follower watch for a moment and then disappear. He was going for help. I took my time eating the meal. I only drank half of the wine but I made sure the bottle was almost empty by pouring some of it down my jacket. I was sure the waiter would finish the rest. I wanted them to think I was drunk.

  As the light faded and dusk fell I saw Jack and his two companions reappear. They spread themselves out to cover all the exits. Jean had become invisible to them for he had not moved. When I paid the bill he disappeared. It was our signal. Now it depended upon me and my ability to make them follow me.

  I thanked the owner and then stepped somewhat unsteadily into the street. I made good use of the stick. I wanted them to think that I was drunk. I staggered one way, away from the cathedral and then stopped as though I had realised I was going the wrong way. I turned around and almost bumped into them. They looked startled but I smiled and gave my apologies. They would have smelled the alcohol on my jacket and thought that it was a sign of my drunkenness. I lead them circuitously through well populated streets until I came to the cathedral. It looked dark and sinister and it was deserted. I, of course, knew where Jean waited and I headed for the cathedral door as though I was going to enter. When I reached it I tried the door and then turned left to walk next to the medieval building. I could hear their steps crunching on the gravel as they closed with me. I passed Jean in the shadows and then leaned against the wall as though I was going to be sick. The one called Jack had got ahead of me and he stood with a short sword in his hand. I recognised the blade as the type issued to artillerymen. That was a good sign. He would not be competent with it.